Nefretti was born in a moonlit forest clearing and raised with equal parts mischief and moss. While other fairies learned flower magic, she learned how to lift keys, reroute caravans, and vanish between roots without a sound. When others began biting into her woodland home, Nefretti decided the mortals owed a tax. Axes go missing, Maps get “corrected”, and coin purses grow lighter in the name of forest preservation.
Nefretti is small even by fairy standards, but she moves like a flicker of wind through leaves—quick, balanced, impossible to pin down. Short, vivid blue curls frame her face, often tangled with tiny yellow blossoms she swears she didn’t put there. Her bright green eyes are wide and expressive, always scanning, always calculating. Curved ram horns sweep back from her temples, dark and ridged, giving her a slightly wild silhouette. Long, pointed ears twitch at the faintest sound. Gossamer wings shimmer behind her, translucent and veined like dragonfly glass, catching the light when she moves. She dresses for function wearing a cropped leather top, fingerless gloves, and fitted shorts layered with belts and pouches stuffed with tools, trinkets, and things she “found.” A scarf usually covers the lower half of her face. Striped thigh-highs and fur-lined boots soften her edge, though the dagger at her hip reminds you she’s not a harmless sprite.